I have considered many items as the one item to take in the case of any tragedy. My phone or wallet would definitely be good options. But, as I have thought about it more and more, I truly believe the only item I could not live without is my childhood blanket. It is a simply knitted blanket. It may look rough and raggedy, but its yarn is soft and smooth. It looks as though it is made of small holes all created by a variety of colors which resembles a rainbow. It holds so much meaning and emotion.  

Unfortunately, it didn’t actually start as mine though. At first it belonged to my oldest sister, Abby. In fact, my grandma made each of my two older sisters, Abby and Katie, one of these blankets when they were babies. I didn’t get one as a baby though. I only ever received a teddy bear. But, overtime I slowly started to cling onto Abby’s blanket. Of course, she didn’t necessarily like this but she didn’t fight it either. I was drawn to its texture and the ability to poke each of the small holes. It entertained and satisfied me. So, eventually I began sleeping with it instead of her. It had become mine. I slept with it every night as a kid because it made me feel safe and comfortable. 

As expected, the blanket started falling apart with age. At about 10 years old, the blanket was on its last leg. It ripped and a ginormous hole resulted. I was devastated when my grandma told me she wouldn’t be able to fix it. However, I continued to insist on getting it fixed and my grandma continued to look for solutions. Luckily, one of my grandma's friends knew what to do. So, I had to ship the blanket off to Michigan. About a week later it came back. At first I was shocked. It was still obvious where it had ripped, and a thick white line of yarn stuck up from the blanket. It may not have been exactly the same, but it was restored and perfect. 

To this day, the blanket stays and remains in my bed at all times. I have begun to realize the blanket means more to me than I ever thought. Obviously it connects me to my grandma as she is the one who made it, but that’s not it. The smell is what really brings back memories. It smells like home. It smells like me. It reminds me of everything I have gone through with my sisters and parents. All the movie nights, holidays, family dinners, birthdays, summer pool parties, bonfires and more all come rushing back to me with one sniff. It might just look like a blanket, but really it is a collection of memories that I have lived.